PDA
by firstadream
Summary: Episode tag for "Os". Peter and Olivia make out in front of college students. Polivia fluff!


**My first Fringe fic. After "Os" and "6B", I couldn't help myself. My Bones muse seems to have taken a temporary vacation and I was pulled in by the epic Peter/Olivia cuteness that has been the last few episodes. I'm officially in love. **

**So anyway, let me know what you think. This is complete fluff and really has very little to do with anything Fringey, but my imagination latched onto this scene and wouldn't let it go. **

"Is this why you asked me to meet you across campus and not at the lab? So that we could make out in front of college kids and not your dad?"

He chuckled softly, smiling, feeling a sudden wave of adoration sweep over him as he watched her grinning face. He couldn't get enough of her nervous little hand gestures and quick shrugs. She was endearing without even trying to be. "No, not exactly," he said. "But if you're up for a nice make out session, I'm definitely not going to say no."

"Well, I was kind of kidding about the making out."

"Mmm," he murmured, moving a little closer to her. A quick look around at the couples surrounding them told him that Harvard students didn't have any qualms about some heavy duty PDA. "Now you got me thinking about it."

He shifted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, loving the way she let him pull her against his body, her arms sweeping up around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I thought you actually had something to show me."

"Yes, I do," he conceded. "But," he continued, a slightly wicked edge to his voice, "in the name of full disclosure, I have to tell you something first."

"Oh, do you?" she teased, smiling softly as he turned them and began backing her up against the lockers.

"Yeah," he breathed, dipping his head and pressing his lips to her neck, just above the rim of her coat collar. "It's _really_ serious."

She nodded. "I'm sure it is," she sighed distractedly.

"Olivia?" he murmured, his breath ghosting across her neck.

"Hmm?"

"I really want to kiss you right now."

He felt more than heard her low chuckle as it rumbled in her throat just below his lips. "That is serious," she said, aiming for a mocking tone but ending up sounding more breathless than anything.

"I told you it was."

He lifted his head and met her eye, relishing the rising color in her cheeks, her half-lidded gaze. He pressed her more fully against the lockers, suddenly wishing they were alone in their bedroom so he could take off her clothes and trace the goose bumps on her skin. "Did you ever make out against a locker in college?" he asked conversationally as he trailed kisses up her neck, lips rounding against her jaw.

"No," she confessed. "I was kind of a nerd."

"Hot librarian?"

"I wish," she laughed. "Do you remember that weird girl in _The Breakfast Club_?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, I was more at that end of the spectrum."

He chuckled and she could feel his stubble brushing across her cheek. It made her shiver. It made her want to be closer to him. "Um, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"You think you're going to get around to kissing me anytime soon?"

He grinned and kissed her cheek and her nose and the corner of her mouth. "Impatient?"

"Maybe."

He smiled and leaned in, brushing his lips across hers in a barely-there kiss. He did it a couple more times until she made a sound very close to a whine and tugged him closer, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. "You _are _impatient," he teased, but then kissed her in earnest a moment later.

She hummed happily at the firm pressure of his lips against her and he smiled at the sound. He'd come to call it her "purr"—the low, breathy sigh she always made when she was feeling _amorous._

He rested his hands against the lockers on either side of her head and pressed close, getting only a slight feel of her body—just enough to make him a little crazy and resent the layers of clothing between them. Her fingers swept up into his hair, holding his mouth firm against her own. He groaned when she parted her lips. Groaned again at the slide of her tongue against his.

He pulled back to give her some air, shifting his lips to her neck instead. He sucked and nipped till she was squirming against him, moaning at the scratch of his stubble and the wetness of his kisses. He shifted his mouth back to hers and kissed her slowly, softly, in an attempt to soothe away the frustration, but it ended up having the opposite effect.

The gentle, deliberate pressure of his lips reminded her of when he went slow, when he took his time, when he kissed his way down her body, touching her everywhere except the places she _needed _it. She thought of the how good it felt when he finally filled her after all that torture and her body hummed with an echo of the pleasure.

"Peter," she gasped, head swimming, legs trembling.

"Mmm," was his incoherent response, mumbled against her skin.

She sighed, her legs parting almost unconsciously, hips shifting against his. "I think we should stop," she said even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

He finally pulled his lips away from her warm, sweet-smelling skin and smiled at her flushed face, her kiss-swollen lips. "Make-out session indeed," he grinned.

She smiled lazily, feeling sleepy and uncomfortably turned on. She thought of the hours before they'd be able to go home to bed and groaned unhappily, leaning against him, her head resting against his shoulder. "In the name of full disclosure," she said. "I think I should tell you something."

"What's that?" he asked as his hands traced lazy circles across her back, fingers toying with the soft strands of her hair.

"I want you," she told him. Dead serious. No guile, or sarcasm.

"Cruel woman," he groaned, feeling his body respond instantaneously to her words.

"What?" she said innocently. "I had to get back at you for getting me all hot and bothered."

"Oh, and you think our little tête-à-tête didn't do it for me?" he asked rhetorically. "Traditionally speaking, having a gorgeous woman rubbing up against you is usually a pretty big turn on."

"Thanks for the tip," she said dryly, pulling back just enough so she could meet his eyes. "But I was _not _rubbing up against you."

"I think you were _definitely _rubbing against me. You were doing that little squirmy thing you do when you get all, you know, _hot and bothered_."

"I don't squirm!" she cried, trying to look offended but ending up looking more adorable than ever.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," he said, lifting his arms in surrender. "I like the squirming. And the purr."

"Stop calling it that."

He grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist, steering her off down the hallway. "There's no other word for it, babe."

She laughed softly, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked. "You know, I think I like making out against lockers."

"Me too," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Me too."

**They really are adorable. I considered having William Bell's soul enter her mid-make-out-session, but I thought that might be a little too weird. Lol. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think. Reviews are always fun! :)**


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